Creatures of the Shade
by PhantomDreamer01
Summary: Set summer after sixth year. AU. Dumbledore died, but that just makes Harry more determined to destroy Riddle. Harry pushes forward, and discovers the power of the Creatures of the Shade, the ones society doesn't want you to know about.
1. Of Riddles and Blackberry Pie

_AN: Obviously I don't own this. My writing could never compare to J K Rowling's. Anything in the plot you recognize, such as books or any brand names I may use DO NOT belong to me. This is my disclaimer. I have read a lot of Fan Fics, though, so some elements of my story may resemble or echo another story. I apologize if I subconsciously mimic any part of an original work without permission. If you are reading this and see something like that, feel free to leave the author and the part of the story I may be copying and I'll give credit where it is due. This disclaimer covers the entire story, as I'm not up to putting it on every chapter. No one reads the disclaimers after the first chapter, anyways. If you don't like it, I'm open to criticism. Just make it constructive. Flames without purpose leads to sucky writing forever, and no one wants that. Alrighty, thanks for reading._

**CHAPTER ONE:**

**Of Riddles and Housework**

Losing sight of a problem does not mean that it is forever gone. Things have a way of repeating themselves, especially if you some how avoided them the first time around. Some call it de-ja-vu, others call it coincidence, but one thing that everyone agrees to is that you never expect it. But hey, what goes around comes around, doesn't it?

A dim light could be seen coming from a small brick house located between house number two and house number six. In the pitch black night, it was clearly obvious that the only person awake on Privet Drive was in a room on the second story. Short gasps of light would be seen from the barred window; most people would've just assumed that the person residing in that room had been watching something on a television set. There were very few people who would recognize it for what it was. A Blinking Star, a relatively new invention.

A gust of wind rushed past the sill of the wide open window where the light was settled, and Harry Potter looked up sharply. He got off of his position on the scuffed hardwood floor to make his way to his window. He was searching the skies and streets frantically for a sign, any sign, of life in the darkest hours of night. The sound of a page turning brought his eyes automatically to the stack of papers that had been shoved in his trunk earlier that month. Harry quickly made his way to the hazardously placed trunk by the door. He searched through the bulky box, pulling out a rather large book. He wore a confused look and realized that he didn't recognize it. Harry opened up to the first page where a rumpled piece of parchment was placed. Harry pulled the paper out of the book and read it silently to himself.

_Harry, __**  
><strong>__I stumbled upon this book in London around Christmas. I bought it as a present for myself (don't comment...), but with recent events, I thought that you might find more use with it than I would have. It helps the mind to, um, focus in areas that I am sure that you have not explored. If you don't want it, I would be happy to take it back, but please try it. It might help your mind become trained and alert. Oh, by the way, I'll see you on August 5! Surprise! This year, you're coming over my house for half of the holidays! I'm sorry I didn't ask you, but it was rather last minute, and from what you've told me about your relatives, taking you away a little early won't break anyone's heart. On the twentieth we will drive to the Burrow to stay for the remainder of the holidays. I'll let you know what time I will pick you up at your house. Four Privet Drive, correct? Anyways, I can't wait to see you! This is the first time my parents have met another wizard in six years, so be warned.__**  
><strong>__Love, __**  
><strong>__Hermione__**  
><strong>__  
><em>Harry closed the book and looked it over. It was leather bound and had that new parchment smell. It had a maroon spine, but the front and back cover were both gold. It was titled ** The Big Book of Riddles, Puzzles, and Enigmas. He opened it to a random page, page 144, and read out loud in the dead silence of the night.

"Fuses," Harry said taking a deep breath, not believing that it would draw his mind out.

"Fuses:

Merlin must let a potion settle for exactly 45 minutes, but he has no device for measuring time.  
>On the other hand, he does have a torch and two fuses, which will burn in one hour, but in an irregular fashion (half of a fuse will not be consumed in 30 minutes).<br>How can the wizard measure exactly 45 minutes?"

Harry thought about it. _Well, if they burn in an irregular fashion, then you can't just wait for it to be 3/4 done; but, on the other hand, it will burn in exactly an hour... umm... maybe he'll invent a spell? No, no, I can tell this is a muggle book just by the way the pictures don't move._**  
><strong>

Harry spent the next 45 minutes trying to figure it out before referring to the back to find the correct answer.

"First of all, Merlin lights fuses A, B, and C, at the same time.

A - B C - D

When the first fuse (AB) is entirely consumed, 30 minutes will have gone by. Merlin will then light D and the 30 minutes of fuse (CD) remaining will be consumed in 15 minutes, because 30 min + 15 min = 45 min."

Before Harry could even think over the solution, he turned to another (this time a riddle) and read to himself, determined to get the next one correct. By the time he looked up from the confusing tome, it was nearing six. Three hours had passed since he first opened the book, apparently, if the clock on his bedside table was correct. He walked up to his calendar that he had conjured at Hogwarts (got an O on a practical charms exam, Harry was proud to say) to see that it was August 1st. _Still four days until I leave, apparently. Ugh... breakfast time.__**  
><strong>___

Harry stumbled down the stairs, barely avoiding a nasty fall, to the kitchen. No one was awake yet, but Harry preferred not to see them that early in the morning, anyways. Harry would cook the food—he was a well accomplished chef after eleven years of cooking for the Dursleys—and lay it in the rather large microwave to keep the food warm. This was the one meal a day that Harry consistently could eat as much as he wanted to; if his uncle didn't know that there was originally more food, and then it was safe for Harry to eat. Today, Harry was supposed to make an even larger amount of eggs, bacon, orange juice, and biscuits, for Aunt Petunia let Harry know by a way of a note stuck to the fridge that Dudley had a few friends spend the night last night (not that Harry couldn't tell by the sound similar to a heard of elephants going up and down the stairs all night). Knowing that when it came to Dudley a few wasn't an actual few (it was more like ten or fifteen), Harry slaved over the stovetop and was constantly checking the oven for any imperfections with the biscuits. By the time the gang of peoplecame down to eat, Harry had finished what felt like his tenth dozen of everything, eating about ten things that proved to be his surplus before anyone ever came down. He had just put the plates of food on the oak serving table and turning everything off when the stampede entered the kitchen, getting crumbs and grease over everything as they tried to get food and find a place to eat as the table only fit five. Harry went up to his room to write Hermione, Ron, and the twins letters. After about two hours and three letters, Harry retired to bed for a quick lie-in before getting up and tending to the outside chores

After a cool shower Harry went down the staircase for the second time that day. He made his way to the kitchen where his daily chores were. _Uhhh... Let's see here: sweeping, vacuuming, washing dishes, mopping, trimming the greenery, watering the plants, and pulling weeds. Great, this is just what I need, more work!_**  
><strong>  
>Harry walked to the other side of the room and pulled out a sponge and some gloves. He set to work with a stoic expression dominating his face.<p> 

Just as he had finished trimming the greenery, a black car pulled up to the curb outside of number four. He didn't say anything, didn't make any action to show that he saw the people. The Dursleys were home still, so that pretty much eliminated that possibility. If they were expecting company, they would have sent Dudley's friends home. Since there were no answers to these questions, he went back to work. He pulled out the list from his back jeans pocket. _Umm, let's see. I've already done the sweeping,__vacuuming, dishes, mopping, trimming the greenery, watering the plants, and moving the kitchen back into order. So, all I have left to do is pull a few weeds.__ And with that, he put the list back into the pocket, grabbed the old baseball cap off his head to air it out, and got down on all fours to start pulling the multiple weeds from the ground. Although he never stirred from his work, he was acutely aware that the car had not yet moved._

_Hermione sat in her car, just watching the black haired, green eyed boy. She was a bit nervous about getting out. She had never met his family before, and from the horror stories that the Weasleys had told her, she didn't think that she ever wanted to. She was supposed to arrive in a few more days, but her family's plans had changed, and they were leaving to go to her grandmother's house tomorrow. So, here she was, sitting in her car like a coward, just staring at the boy-who-picks-weeds._

_"Come on, Hermione, you're a Gryffindor. You've gone against serial killers. You can face one of you're best friends." She stood and got out of the shining black car, closing the door and locking it. She made her way slowly, cautiously, towards Harry. She noticed him stiffen a bit and figured that he had noticed her. Next thing she knew, her back was on the ground and Harry was straddling her, his wand barely visible underneath his sleeve._

_She waited for the look of recognition to pass. She waited for the apologetic look and the apology. She waited for him to jump up off of her and ask her why she was there. She waited and waited, but none came._

_"H-Harry... Could you, umm, could you maybe get off... Please?" Finally, the look came. And with the look came the apology. And with the apology came the question._

_"Yes, yes, I would tell you all about it if only I could breathe," she responded._

_"Oh, my gosh, I'm so sorry! Umm, here- here you go," he said, pulling her off the ground and up to her feet. His face turned red, and his eyes were apologetic._

_"It's fine, don't fret about me. Alrighty, how about we go inside and I'll answer all those questions," she said._

_"Oh, umm, alright, but you have to be really quiet, alright?"_

_"Of course."_

_With that, they made their way to the front door, making sure to step lightly and breathe quietly. Harry creaked open the door and looked inside. They would have to pass about five of Dudley's friends who were sitting on the couch, but thankfully, Dudley himself was no where in sight. He turned to Hermione to tell her that she should ignore any comments or insults or anything that she might hear on their apparently very dangerous journey upstairs. She nodded, and they proceeded forward._

_Once inside, Harry closed the door as quietly as he could. The stairs were to their right, and the sitting room, where the boys were laughing obnoxiously over a boxing match on the television, was to their left. Harry led the way, steering right. They were almost halfway up when Harry stepped on a creaky step and one of the boys, a redhead with an athletic build and an Irish accent, noticed them._

_"'Ey, lookie 'ere! Wee 'ittle 'Arry gots a girl! A 'ot one, too! Wou'dn't mind me ta 'ave some a 'er!"_

_"Hey, guys, Brute's right! Harry's got a chick!"_

_"Harry's got a what?"_

_"Can't be!"_

_"Aw, hell, why does he get the cute one?"_

_So the comments were shot at them, and their pace quickened to a run as to not get the attention of any of the others. Just as they were almost to Harry's door, Hermione turned around and ran back suddenly. He just stood there for a second before trying to catch up with her, but by the time that he was halfway there she was running past him back to the door. He turned around, stared for a second, and rushed back to his room. Not even a second after he was in the room, she closed the door and whispered__ "__Imperturbatus_" at the door, successfully blocking the door from eavesdroppers.

"Alright, so what do you want to know?" Hermione asked.

"Well, first off, I want to know how you did those spells. Won't you get in trouble?"

"Nope, I'm already seventeen, remember? I'll be eighteen in September.

"Oh yeah, I always forget you're an old woman. Well, why'd you run back? Did you drop something?"

"No, I didn't drop anything. I went back to quickly erase their memories. And, no, I won't get in trouble seeing as since I did it to all of them at the same time; there was no other muggle to witness it. Next."

"Umm, not to be rude, but why are you here?"

"Oh, that. Well, my family's plans had changed, so—"

"So you're not going to have me over..."

"No, you interrupted me. I was saying that I was here to pick you up early so that we could go to my grandma's house for four days. I thought about calling, but I figured that your relatives wouldn't give you the message anyways, and an owl would be too slow. So, here I am."

"Since when do you drive?"

"I got my license during the Christmas holidays after I turned sixteen. Then, Dad bought me a car that following summer, after fifth year."

"Why am I going over your house this summer before going to the Burrow in the first place?"

"Well, the Weasleys were going to have you over for a longer time this year, but they are going to visit Charley in Romania. So, I offered to, and my parents agreed. I hope you don't mind, I mean, we kind of didn't ask for your opinion before doing this."

"No, it's fine. Anywhere away from this hellhole is good."

Hermione laughed, "Anymore questions, then?"

"One more, what happened to your hair?"

"Oh, umm, it kind of settled out. I don't really care about my hair, but it is easier to take care of, so I guess I like it," she said, running her hands through her silky curls self-consciously.

"Oh, it doesn't look bad, I was just curious," Harry said, sensing her discomfort.

"Okay, well if that's the end of your questions, then you need to pack and we'll be off."

"Pack? I never unpacked! I just need to grab a few more things..."

She tuned out his small talk ramblings and focused on studying his room. Although it wasn't a closet, it could certainly pass as one. There were clothes scattered all over the floor, clean and dirty. There were no personal touches anywhere, no paint on the walls, no pictures lining the small amount of space available, no books or posters. Simply put, it was a completely impersonal space. You couldn't even call it a room, for it wasn't nearly big enough to be considered one. There was a solitary window right next to the bed. At first glance, it looked like an ordinary window, but when one truly looked at it, they could see the remains of metal bars that used to run up and down along the window, ensuring that no one gets in or out. Some time ago, someone must have broken them to free the prisoner of the space. Hermione could only close her eyes at this, now seeing the proof of the Weasley twins' tale that they told her of in second year.

"You ready yet?" Hermione asked.

"Just about. I just can't seem to find—ah, here it is!" said Harry, stuffing the photo album from Hagrid into his trunk.

"Okay, let's get going then," said Hermione, eyeing the entirely too small trunk considering that it was holding all of his belongings in the room.

"Oh, and Harry," Hermione said with confidence, "we're going to go do a little shopping before we go back to my place."

Harry swallowed. "...Shopping?..."


	2. Of Blackberry Pie and Colorful Shacks

**CHAPTER TWO**

**Of Blackberry Pie and Colorful Shacks**

_Harry swallowed. "...Shopping?"_

"Yes, shopping," said Hermione with a small smile on her face.

"Shopping, as in stores with people?" asked Harry cautiously.

"They also sell things, you know. New things," she said as if she were talking to a child. Harry closed his mouth and glared at her but remained silent. He lifted his trunk with no difficulty, seeing as how little there was inside of it, and headed out the door. The hall was still deserted, but the pair still felt the need to sneak, so they walked on light feet until they reached the stairs. Harry signaled which step was the creaky one for Hermione before making his way down until the last step. Hermione was just about to step over the creaky step herself when a sudden holler came from the kitchen area.

"BOY! WHERE ARE YOU?" shouted a man whom Hermione assumed was Harry's uncle. Harry looked at her with wide eyes, signaling to stay there until he came back.

"I'm here, Uncle Vernon," called Harry as he walked calmly into the kitchen area where his uncle most definitely was. Hermione pulled out an extendable ear from her pocket and lowered it over the banister so that it was a mere foot from the kitchen door. Harry, unaware of this, continued acting the way that he usually did around his uncle, like a house elf.

"Where's lunch, Boy? It should've been done five minutes ago!" She could hear shuffling and the clanking of pots and pans as she assumed that Harry prepared to cook the demanded meal.

"Sorry, Uncle. I will get on that right away. Pork or Chicken today?" Harry asked in a soft voice, almost as if he were...scared.

"Pork, most definitely pork today. And make some biscuits with that. I'm feeling like blackberry pie for dessert, as well. Well," he said, voice rising, "get on it!" A small "Yes, Sir," came out of Harry's mouth as she heard the refrigerator open and close. She frowned, hearing enough. Anyways, it sounded like their conversation was pretty much over, so she sat and waited on the steps, barely remembering to pull up the extendable ear and put it back in her pocket. She would never admit it in school, but those things were damn useful. She could smell the roasted pork and biscuits as time progressed. She took a large sniff of the delicious aroma that was drifting up to her, enveloping her in a warm cloud. Just the feel of the delicious smelling cloud on her face made her stomach rumble. Even without the aid of the extendable ear she could hear small clanking and shuffling noises. Not too much later, another scent made its way up to her nose, blackberry pie. It was the most delicious smelling blackberry pie that she had ever smelled and that was saying something. And not too much later after that, she could smell the cloud breaking some, a minor amount of the delicious aroma drifting farther away, but then it got closer.

Opening her eyes, she saw Harry standing above her. He smiled at her hungry expression.

"A bit hungry, aren't we?" Harry whispered, still trying to stay quiet.

"No," said Hermione confidently, masking everything that would've said anything differently. She was doing rather well, too, until, that is, her stomach gave a loud rumble. Harry let out a large, hushed laugh as he pulled her up.

"Well, you're not helping by smelling like that! Honestly, why did you have to make blackberry pie, of all things?" said Hermione, defending her protesting stomach.

"Are you blaming the pie?" Harry asked with a single eyebrow raised.

"What? No—well yes—I mean, no! Oh, stop making this difficult!"

"Hey, I'm not saying that you shouldn't blame the pie, it was rather good," said Harry, trying to hide his smile as he walked out the front door with the small amount of cargo. Hermione followed, closing the door softly, before rushing to help Harry put his small trunk into the back of the car.

"You had some? Did you not save me any, you pig?" said Hermione in a normal voice now.

"Don't be ridiculous, of course I saved you some. In fact, the small bite that I did have was off the tip of yours, and again, it is rather yummy." Hermione hit him in the arm and held out her hands expectantly. Harry handed her a fair amount of food wrapped in a towel and a fork.

"Thank you. Now, should we get clothes or books first?" Hermione asked as she got into the driver's seat of the car.

"I kind of have to stop by Gringotts before we do anything," said Harry a bit sheepishly. "I only have a few galleons on me, and I don't have any pounds at all."

"Well, of course we are going there first, I meant after that. I need some money too, Harry," she said, digging into the pork, biscuit, and pie.

"Oh, alright, I guess books, then."

"Well, that means that we have to go clothes shopping first," she said with a smile after swallowing her food.

"Oh. Well, in that case, I want to go clothes shopping first," Harry said, catching on to her little game.

"Good, because that's where we are going," she said with a smile. It was her game; she could change the rules if she wanted to. Harry groaned to voice his displeasure.

The ride to London was an overall nice one. Small talk was made, arguments were fought, jokes were laughed at, and music was played. When they finally made it to the Leaky Cauldron, though, they were both glad to be out of the stuffy car.

"Hey, Tom. Having a nice day?" Harry asked. He genuinely liked Tom, the barman. He was certainly interesting to talk to, and, being surrounded by all sorts of people day and night, he had plenty of good stories to tell.

"'Ey, 'Arry! 'Wouldn't believe w'at 'appened las' nigh'!" he replied, eager at the chance to tell his story.

"Maybe another time, Tom, but right now I've got to run," said Harry with a smile. He led Hermione to the back door that led to the brick wall. He tapped the bricks in the desired order, causing them to shift more and more until they formed an archway.

Hundreds of people talking and shopping was what now lie before them. Little boys whining for the newest broomstick model, girls crying for an ice cream, lovers eating lunch in a diner, sketchy wizards selling items on the sides of the street: it all summed up to Diagon Alley. Harry had a love/hate relationship with this magical place. It truly was magical; it held the key to a lot of Harry's dreams that he had when he was younger, yet, it was still a place where people singled him out. People still called him different, albeit in a good way most of the time, but he still stuck out. Quickly turning to Hermione, he said, "Quick, put a glamour charm on me. Change my hair, scar, and eyes. Oh, I forgot—please." Hermione laughed a bit before concentrating on the spell.

"Alright, you're good," she said when she was finished with the spell.

"How do I look?" he asked her seriously.

"Oh, just a bit conceited, don't you think? Relax, you look fine!" she scolded lightly.

"Alright, thanks. Next stop, Gringotts," he said, stepping past the archway and into the busy street. They headed straight for about fifteen minutes before reaching the giant bank.

"Harry, you don't have to do this. If you're embarrassed or don't want me to see, I understand. I could just wait outside or at the Leaky Cauldron. I really don't mind."

"It's no big deal," he said.

"Harry James Potter, don't ever say that this is no big deal! You don't want just anybody seeing your personal information!" she said angrily.

"Calm down, Hermione," he said. "I meant that it was no big deal that _you_ saw it. You're one of my best friends."

"Well, it's nothing to joke about. You know, I really don't mind leaving," she said, slightly put-off.

"Hermione, I appreciate your concern, but I really don't mind. Plus, you know you're curious. Hell, I'm curious," he said frankly.

"Wait, you mean that you haven't seen your own vault yet? You've must've seen it at least once," she looked at him quizzically.

"Actually, the last time that I saw it was when I went shopping in first year. I let Dumbledore handle the funds after that. After all, there _was_ a reason that I didn't take arithmetic in Hogwarts." He got a sad look in his eyes at the thought of the late headmaster.

"Oh," she simply said.

Harry looked at his best friend of six years.

He approached the shortest line for withdrawals and waited patently. That is, until one of the small, wrinkly, sneering goblins approached him.

"Harry James Potter, son of James Robert Potter and Lily Ginger Evans, my name is Theoink. Please follow me," he said in a gruff voice. Heads started to turn, people wanting to see where the famous Boy-Who-Lived was. Not wanting the people to catch on, he quickly hustled after the goblin, pulling Hermione along behind him.

The goblin led the pair down dozens of twisting hallways in the office section of the bank. Apparently goblins didn't get the luxury of having any modes of transportation besides their feet here. Finally, after Harry's feet were red and sore, the goblin stopped at a large, wooden door.

"Follow me, this way," he said. Harry gave Hermione a confused look, but she just shrugged. She had never been to the offices of Gringotts' goblins. When he turned his head back to where the goblin was standing, he was shocked to see the goblin missing.

"Where'd he go? He couldn't have just left us here!" Hermione panicked. Harry raised his hand to knock on the door, only to be shocked that his hand went right through it.

"Guess there's only one way to find out," he said, looking at her. He stepped though the door. About five seconds later, his head appeared on Hermione's side of the door. "Found him," he said with a smile. She smiled at him and pushed his head back through before going through herself.

"So nice of you to finally join me," the goblin sneered at the duo. He turned towards Harry, who was trying to find a semi-comfortable spot on the firm leather arm chair. "You might want _her_," he said pointing at Hermione, "to leave. What I'm about to tell you is personal information, information that should only be said in front of someone you would trust with your soul."

"She can stay, I trust her. Can you please tell me what this is all about? I just want to make a withdrawal." Harry looked straight at the goblin, annoyance evident on his face.

"Are you positive of your trust, Mr. Potter? Your reputation goes against having people know your personal business."

"I am absolutely sure, sir. Can we please just get whatever this is over with?"

"As you wish, Master Potter. First off, I would like to address the most current happenings. Previously you had only been granted access to the emergency funds, in other words, 5% of your total wealth. As of yesterday, the seventeenth anniversary of the day of your birth, you have gained access to the rest of your funds as well as the emergency fund. This will be further addressed later today.

"You have been the subject of many wills, Mister Potter; the majority includes Albus Wolvric Percival Brian Dumbledore, Sirius Orion Black, Cedric Amos Diggory, Lily Ginger Evans-Potter, and James Robert Potter. The things that you have gotten so far from these were enlisted in the will specifically to be given before your coming of age.

"Albus Wolvric Percival Brian Dumbledore has willed to you the following: his pensive, multiple memories placed in vials, two rather large notebooks, and a bag of Lemon Drops. A portion of the wealth of his vault has been given to you as well.

"Sirius Orion Black has willed you 12 Grimmauld Place (which you should've already received possession of), a house elf, and one large box. Also, the Black family fortune has been added to your vault.

"Cedric Amos Diggory has given you a box that can be opened by none other than yourself.

"Lily Ginger Evans-Potter and James Robert Potter have given you their estate, the Potter Manor. Also, the family wealth has been granted full access to you, along with several stocks and titles. The remaining Potter assets and possessions can be found in one of your vaults.

"Your fortune in gold alone is 63,894 galleons, 895 sickles, and 16 knuts. If you add your liquid assets, you could easily double that amount.

"Finally, the titles, enlisted with the name Potter, which have now passed on to you: Master, Wizamagot Seat Holder, and Heir of Maxwell Spralz.

"Do you have any question concerning the meeting that has now reached its closing?" finished the goblin.

"Can I just withdraw some gold and go?"

"This meeting has been finalized as soon as you sign on the dotted line saying that you have attended this meeting and have been told what needed telling. But you have no questions?" Harry silently picked up the quill that appeared out of nowhere and signed on the line as he was instructed, shaking his head.

They stood up to leave, Hermione not saying anything.

"Go ahead; I just need to talk to Theoink about one more thing," he said. She nodded

"Oh, nothing really important, just something about the lemon drops," he smiled a bit.

"I can wait."

"I'll be quick; now shoo!" he said once he saw her unbelieving eyes. Once she exited, he turned to the goblin.

"I actually have an important question, Theoink. Could you give me four banking keys to my vault, please? Preferably something that I can use in places with muggles."

"Certainly I can, Mister Potter. Would you like them now or later?" he responded, seemingly in a better mood now that they were alone.

"Now, please." Theoink waved his hand over Harry's open file four times. The goblin handed the newly created shiny cards to Harry. He put them in his pocket, deciding that he would need a wallet soon. "Thank you," he said to the goblin.

He followed the goblin to outside the office where Hermione was waiting.

"This way, please," said Theoink. He walked to the end of the hallway and opened the last door on the right. Right there on railroad tracks was the cart that could take them anywhere in the massive bank. The three hustled into the cart.

"Hands inside of the cart at all times," Theoink said seconds before the cart took off. Barely a minute later and about ten floors lower, the cart finally stopped. Feeling a bit queasy, they both stepped off onto the solid ground and allowed Theoink to lead the way to the correct vault.

"Harry, I understand if you don't want me to go in with you. I've already heard how much money you have; you might not want me to see it as well. In fact, I understand if you want to erase my memory," Hermione said in a quiet voice.

"Hermione, look, I trust you. I don't mind you knowing about how much I'm worth. You don't have to come in, but I really wouldn't mind if you did. Now, stop worrying." He really did trust her, and it bothered him that she thought he didn't.

"…If you're sure," she started slowly.

"Hermione, I insist. Now you don't have a choice, you're coming with me," he said to her with a smile.

Theoink huffed, making Harry realize that they were there for a reason.

"If you are quite ready, it is time to go in," Theoink said, looking at Hermione in displeasure.

"Of course, let's go," Hermione said, starting to act like her old self. Feeling confident once more, she pulled Harry with her to the vault door.

He made his way to the back of the vault where Hermione was at and felt his breath leave him. The room was filled with family artifacts. Paintings, tapestries, portraits, and photographs hung on the walls. Cabinets filled with fine china, clothes, and finely crafted dolls were resting on the far wall. Swords, shields, bows, and even wands were in glass cases in between artwork. Ornately carved wooden boxes sat on the tables in a far corner. Harry walked up to one of them and tried to open it.

It wouldn't budge.

He tried again, this time being more careful.

Still, it wouldn't open.

Hermione came up beside him. She put her hand on his arm. Harry looked away from the stubborn box and into Hermione's questioning face.

"May I try?" she asked hesitantly. He paused for a second before passing her the box. She examined the box closely, taking in every detail. After about two minutes of watching her, he grew bored and decided to look in the next room.

"Harry, come here for a second, please!" Hermione called about ten minutes later.

"Be right there!" he called back before taking a final glance around the room and smiling. He walked over to the first room where Hermione had a concentrated look on her face. "Let me see your wand," she said in a voice that allowed no debate. He reached for his wand in his pocket and gave it to her. He watched her as she carefully inserted the tip of his wand into a small opening that he had not noticed when he was inspecting it himself. Suddenly, it opened.

Harry looked over at Hermione, who was looking at him. Curious expressions on both of their faces, they leaned over the box at the same time.

Documents, papers, birth certificates, lone photos, pass codes, and diaries were contained in the secretive box. He tried opening the rest of them with his wand as well. About half of them opened, while the other half remained locked. The ones that did open, though, contained similar things, but some looked older than others.

"I think I remember reading about these types of boxes. They open only to the bloodline of the family that owns them. The other half must be for your future spouse or kids," Hermione said knowingly. Harry just stared blankly at the boxes that held more information about his family than he had learned his entire life.

"Harry, we should get going now," Hermione commented. "My parents expect us to be home at about 6:30, and it is noon now."

Harry blanched. "We're going shopping for six and a half hours? Are you crazy?" he said, totally serious.

"No, silly, it'll take us a half hour to get back to my house. And if we don't hurry up, then it'll only be five hours! Now let's go." She made her way back to the main room. "How much gold do you want?" she asked.

"Um, I don't know. How much will I need?" he asked tiredly. She just nodded her head and started grabbing gold and paper and putting them in her subtle purse, not bothering to voice a reply.

"So…where exactly are we going to go?" asked Harry uncomfortably as they walked into the streets of muggle London.

"Well I did some research and—," started Hermione before she was interrupted by a sudden voice.

"Hermione, don't tell me that you've actually done research on shopping, of all things!" said a tall girl with strawberry blonde hair who looked to be around their age. Hermione spun around.

"Danny! Hey!" Hermione said energetically, momentarily leaving Harry's side to hug the girl. Stepping back to her original position, she turned to Harry, smiling brightly. "Harry, meet my cousin, Danielle Granger. Danny, meet one of my best friends, Harry Potter." Danny smiled at Harry and nodded her head in recognition.

"I work at a café a little ways down the street. See it? That small shack squeezed between two sky-scrapers?" Danny joked, pointing at a colorful building that actually did look like a shack compared to the tall apartment complexes on either side of it. "Just finished my shift, I did.

"You two are going shopping, eh?" Danny said, falling in step with the duo as they walked to a high end department store.

"Yeah, Harry here needs some new… Well, some new everything, I guess," Hermione replied with a laugh.

"Well count me in." And with that, Harry sighed, giving up hope on this being a quick trip.

"Come on, seriously? I look like I'm in the Mafia!" protested Harry, who was currently modeling a rather expensive, black-pinstriped Italian suit. Hermione laughed a little and stepped forward as Harry continued complaining. "_Just trust me_, you said. _You'll love it,_ you said. Yeah, well I'm not loving this, Hermione!"

"Drama queens and their fits…" Hermione said under her breath as she rolled her eyes. "Mmkay, take it off, and put this on instead." She passed him a dark t-shirt and some jeans. Sulking back to the changing stall, albeit looking happier than before, Harry did as he was told.

Danny, meanwhile, was laughing. "Really, Hermione? I mean, way to torture the poor guy."

"I'm just surprised they actually fit," Hermione laughed.

It was two hours into the shopping trip, and Danny and Hermione had been dragging him all over the place. He had already purchased what felt like a dozen different wardrobes. _I mean really, who needs four different swim trunks?_

"Alrighty, I think that might be enough for today. Thanks for helping, Danny," Hermione smiled as Harry swiped one of his cards from Gringotts through the machine at check-out.

"Thank Merlin for small miracles," Harry mumbled under his breath, genuinely surprised when Hermione heard him and elbowed him in his side.

"No problem. You're going to Grandma's this summer, right? You missed it last year," Danny replied, gathering her few bags of items that Harry had purchased for her out of thanks.

"Yeah, Mum, Dad, Harry, and I will all be there," Hermione smiled as she hugged the blonde and said her goodbyes.

"So, we're going to your house now, right?" Harry asked innocently.

"Yeah," Hermione said, getting in her car. "Right after I pick up a few books…" Harry groaned loudly, and they were off once more.

"Three rows dedicated to Dr. Suess, yet only two books of Tolstoy? Ridiculous!" Hermione ranted as she exited the book shop. Harry rolled his eyes, a slight smile on his face, and followed her into the car.

"Hermione, it's a book store almost completely dedicated to kids. Did you seriously think that they would have War and Peace?"

"I wasn't looking for War and Peace! I was looking for one of the other books he wrote, Youth. It's an outrage they didn't have it."

"He wrote another book?" Harry asked, confused. "But isn't he dead already?"

Hermione sighed. "It's the final installment in an autobiographical trilogy about his childhood, Harry. It was one of the first things he wrote. You should really read more; it's quite eye-opening and enlightening… Harry, are you listening?"

The ride continued like that for quite some time, until they reached a modest sized, two -story house. Once they were parked and Harry grabbed his stuff from the back seat, Hermione started the tour. There was a small porch in the front with a single bench and a rocker on it. Walking in through the front door, Harry's eyes were suddenly greeted by a room that could only be described as clean. Its white walls were bare, and the only things in the room that weren't some variation of white were a small black television in the corner and two coffee tables that were a deep brown. A large marble fireplace seemed to be the focus of the room, with photos in their frames adorning the mantle.

The kitchen was directly to the left, and although it was fairly large, it looked as if it wasn't used that often.

Entering the living room once more, they went into the room directly across from the front door. It was what looked to be a personal office, with two desks facing each other in the center of the room, bookshelves filled with various sized binders, and many filing cabinets. Harry vaguely remembered something Hermione had said about her parents being dentists a couple years ago, so it made sense to have a home office.

Going back into the living room, Harry was pulled up a staircase against the far wall. "That is Mum and Dad's room," she said, reaching the top of the stairs and pointing to a closed door on her left. She showed him the reasonable sized bathroom next. This was the first room that had any trace of color on it, with the walls being a subtle orange. Moving on, she opened a door at the very end of the hallway.

The room wasn't small, but it sure felt like it. There was so much going on in the denim blue room. An overstuffed loveseat sat underneath a window, the old coffee table next to it threatening to collapse under the weight of all the books and papers on top of it. Harry counted four bookshelves, taking up almost an entire wall, yet there were still books in assorted piles littering the floor. A desk had a new looking computer on it, and was placed next to the full sized bed on the third wall.

"And this, well, this is my room," said Hermione after a while.

"It suits you," Harry said. "It's crazy, yet if I've guessed right…" Harry walked into the room towards the bookshelves and concentrated on the books, "…they're all organized. By author, then by title?" Hermione laughed a little bit. "Yeah," she said, hoping he didn't also notice it was sorted into nonfiction and fiction. Harry turned around to face to Hermione, when he noticed the fourth wall. It had nothing blocking the view from it, as if it was a treasured piece of artwork. The entire wall was covered with pictures, from Hermione and her parents when she was younger, to the trio in Hogwarts, to Hermione and Danny, along with a group of other, unrecognized people.

"Wow… Where'd you get all those photos?" he asked, pointing to the Hogwarts ones.

"Quite a few people at school have cameras, Harry. Colin Creevy in particular is fanatic about photography. And you'd be surprised how many teachers spend their time on the grounds taking photos. Although, when I asked Dumbledore for this one, he tol…" She trailed off as she saw Harry's face drop. "Oh, Harry, I'm sorry. I didn't think—"

"You didn't think, Hermione? That's possible?" Harry asked as he threw up a mask of indifference. "Everything's fine."

"No, it's not, Harry. I shouldn't have brought it up, it's too early."

"Hermione, look I don't even care—"

"Don't you dare, Harry James Potter. Don't you dare say that you don't care that Dumbledore's gone, that he died. You do care, and you should." The two teens stared each other down, a heavy silence falling over the house.

"We'll see." Harry said softly, looking down at the floor.


End file.
